The Bearcat stiffened and then wheeled about and started through the bedroom toward the parlor, his eyes searching every nook and corner as he walked. The word “he” sent a hot flush over him. He went with the one thought in his mind—“he”—ready to kill, if he had to.

When he reached the parlor, he saw the black body in a heap on the floor. He saw a pool of blood on the carpet. And next to a chair on the floor lay a gun.

Babe had followed him and was close behind when Bearcat made his gruesome discovery. He turned and stared at Babe.

“Who—who did this?”

Babe covered her face with her hands and swayed. He quickly took hold of her. Had she done this? Had she murdered this man?

“My God!” he said in a hushed voice.

Babe finally collected herself, and told him a pretty story.

“I was workin’ in the Five and Ten,” she began, “and it was terribly hard there in back of that counter, dear, standing so many hours a day. Finally, I had to give it up. One of the girls from the Net was a steady customer of mine. She told me I was a fool to work so hard for a little money. She said she’d introduce me to a man who could get me a good job, with more money. The man she introduced me to was Money Johnson. A week or two passed and there was no position. He made several appointments, but nothin’ ever came out of them. Once he took me out in his car, to meet a man way uptown, who was goin’ to give me a job. He had three other girls along. But that meeting didn’t amount to nothin’ either.

“After a few weeks of these promises and runnin’ around for nothin’, I had very little money left of my savings. I was forced to borrow money. Johnson loaned the money to me, saying I could pay it back when he found a job for me. He had plenty of money and loaned a lot of it out. He got his name that way.”

“But,” the Bearcat broke in, “why didn’t you let me know? Why did you borrow money from this nigger? You should’ve let me know. I’d have helped you.”

“I know, dear. But you had no money to spare. Besides, you was up in the camp there. And I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted you to get strong again and make a come-back. Anyway—the money you got to pay for your trip—ask Joe Malone about that. Ask him where he got it to give to you.”

“Oh, Babe! You mean—”

“Yes—I did it for you!”

“Oh, honey! Then you still cared for me?”